Mourning Hope
by DBwrites
Summary: They had been happy, optimistic, excited for the future. But hope doesn't last long in this new world. After tragedy strikes, Daryl struggles to pull Beth back to him before he loses her too. ZA AU where Daryl and Beth reunited with the group after living in the funeral home.


**A/N-** This is a one-shot but I'm toying with the idea of expanding it to explore the aftermath of what happens in this fiction. So please, let me know what you think!

* * *

It was for the best. That's what he kept telling himself. He repeated the lie over and over again, as if he might start to believe the now meaningless words.

Beth hadn't spoken much in days. Daryl was watching her slip through his fingers and he had no idea how to stop it, or even how to slow the momentum. At first, when she pulled him away from camp to reveal what was happening, they tried to believe it would be okay, the bleeding wasn't what they thought it was. But soon enough reality set in. They knew what they lost. They realized _who_ they lost.

Every time he looked at Beth, the pressure in his chest built, working its way up his throat and into his extremities. Daryl felt powerless, a feeling that used to send him into a fit of rage; but now, instead, he was coated in an inescapable grief that impacted his every movement. He almost preferred the rage. That emotion exploded but it would burn out quickly. The grief made itself at home, settling in for the long haul.

Daryl knew his helplessness couldn't compare to Beth's. One of the few phrases she repeated now was that she had failed, that she had tried her best, that her best wasn't enough.

But she was enough. Daryl _never _doubted she was more than enough. Beth would have been an amazing mother, and he would have done his best just to keep up with her. Their child would have made it in this world. They could have thrived. But he or she didn't even get a chance.

No one would ever know what caused it. Stress? Malnutrition? Excessive physical exertion? Or maybe it was just natural, meant to be, completely unrelated to anything they had done or failed to do.

But Beth wouldn't listen to reason. Most of the time, Daryl wasn't even sure she was listening at all. He wasn't sure if his words broke through the relentless internal monologue racing through Beth's mind. He knew she constantly blamed herself for the loss. Sometimes, it felt like he lost Beth too. She was right there, still breathing, going through motions as she was instructed to do so, but the once vibrant light in her eyes was gone.

She wanted that baby more than anything, her confidence about that had never wavered. She had been beaming with pride when she revealed the pregnancy. He could still hear her saying, "Now don't panic. This is a good thing, I know it will be." A line that, of course, sent Daryl into a weeklong panic. He went to sleep every night remembering the loss of Lori and spent hours each day obsessing about how Beth couldn't meet the same fate. He devoted so much time to worrying about her that he didn't even think to worry about the baby. But, eventually, it was Beth who pulled him back. Confident they would all be okay. Positive they would make their family work. It was Beth who helped Daryl feel excited, even hopeful, about the experiences to come.

However, now, Daryl was just building a list of what he could never have. He would not get to feel the baby kick or find out if it was a boy or a girl. He would never get to know if it was stuck with his nose or blessed with Beth's hair. He and Beth would never debate naming the child after her parents or finding a name untainted by death. He would miss out on getting to tease Beth for her waddle or watching her stroke her rounded belly as she napped. He would never get to hold his child in his arms and promise to be a better father than his own had been.

Though Daryl felt like his list of missed experiences was unending, he knew Beth's was longer. She had always wanted to be a mother. He hadn't even considered fatherhood until about two months ago.

"Daryl?" Daryl finally registered his name being called. The inflection of Rick's voice informed him that he had probably missed the first few requests.

"Yeah?" Daryl replied, running his hands through his disheveled hair before standing up.

"Come 'ere."

Rick cast a concerned glance to Beth, who appeared not register Rick's voice nor Daryl's movement. She remained frozen on the tree trunk beside her tent, methodically sewing a knit cap in no need of repair.

Daryl forced himself to cross the camp and approach Rick at the fire pit. After Beth lost the baby, Daryl considered taking her away for a few days, in an attempt to avoid the group's pity. However, Rick had convinced him they needed to stay, they needed the group's protection.

"How's she doin?" Rick asked, his voice low as he looked over Daryl's shoulder to Beth.

"Same. Not sayin much. Just stays by our tent."

Rick didn't reply; he simply sighed as his eyes met Daryl's.

"Yeah, neither am I. I know." Daryl muttered guiltily, shoving a hand into his back pocket.

Rick took a deep breath before continuing, "It's time to move Daryl. We're too out in the open here. Too many walkers are coming through. We're just sitting ducks. And it'll be winter soon…"

Daryl nodded. He knew what Rick wasn't saying, what he didn't want to say. They'd have to convince Beth to leave the last place her baby had been alive and the last place she had felt hope for the future.

Heat built in his chest and Daryl was tempted to argue. He wanted to say the group could move on without them. He'd stay with Beth and they'd all meet up eventually. But Daryl knew better. Rick wouldn't try to move Beth if he didn't have to. And Daryl was in no shape to protect Beth. Rick was just making the decision Daryl couldn't.

"I'll take care of it." Daryl conceded after a moment, pulling his bandana from his back pocket and wiping his face uneasily. "When we movin out?"

"We'll go after noon. We can get to the house Carol found and have time to do a second sweep for walkers before nightfall."

Daryl exhaled loudly. That gave him less time than he wanted, but he'd make due.

"You do what you gotta do. The rest of us will pack up." Rick's voice was gentle but not demeaning; even now Daryl couldn't stand to accept anyone's pity.

Daryl didn't bother to reply as Rick turned back to the camp, surveying the work to be done. Rick knew his appreciation; there was no need to voice it.

Rather than head right back to Beth, Daryl walked the perimeter of the camp, collecting sticks in the crook of his arm before returning to his and Beth's tent.

"Beth?" Daryl asked softly, kneeling before Beth.

Beth indicated no response; she simply kept sewing, her face in a blank stare.

"Babe?" He asked again, the moniker catching in his throat. He had only started to call her that recently, in their euphoria over the baby. "I need you to react Beth. I need to ask you for something. I can't just take them from you..."

"Hmm?" She responded after a moment of consideration; raising her eyes only high enough to look at his chin. Her eyes were different since she lost the baby. They had yet to focus on Daryl's face, yet to really meet his gaze. He never knew how much he would miss her looking at him. _Seeing_ him.

"Your bracelets?" He asked, taking to take advantage of her attention. "I need them for something. Can I have them?" He asked softly, his tone patient despite his internal panic over her ambivalence.

Beth inhaled slowly, her movements delayed, but she eventually held her left wrist out to Daryl, revealing her combination of leather bands and beaded jewelry.

Carefully, Daryl removed most of the bracelets. Leaving only her thick leather strap behind, its silver cross catching the sunlight through the trees.

Gingerly, he touched her cheek with his fingertips. "We have to move soon, Beth. Carol found a new place. It's safer. We'd have walls."

Beth's eye's dilated suddenly, but the rest of her face did not react. She simply looked back to the cap in her hands, hiding her eyes.

"I know you don't want to. I don't either. But we have to. Even if we're not ready yet… We have to go."

Beth abruptly looked back up, making eye contact, but the defiant glare in her eyes sent a chill down Daryl's spine.

"Please trust me. Just give me a bit. Please, Beth?" Daryl pled, causing the anger in Beth's eyes to subside. Moments later she reverted her attention back to sewing the cap in her lap, as if she had never heard him.

"Just wait…" Daryl mumbled, as much to himself as to Beth.

Carefully, he began to separate the sticks, creating two bundles, both thin and one about half the length of the other. He crossed them on the bare ground and tied his red bandana tightly at the meeting point to hold everything in place. Picking a tree next to their tent, Daryl dug a small hole for the base of the cross before leaning it against the trunk and ensuring it fit snuggly in place.

When he looked back, Beth was watching him silently, her eyes narrowed. But at least she was looking at him.

"You want to put these on?" Daryl asked, offering the bracelets to her as he stood before the small cross.

Beth didn't respond and eventually Daryl gave up, crouching down and beginning to untangle one of the beaded strands, his heart constricting in defeat. He had thought this would help. He had hoped this would help. He didn't know what else to do.

"Give them to me." Beth said quietly, moving over to Daryl with her hand outstretched.

Beth knelt beside him and meticulously placed the bracelets one by one upon the cross. Then, without another word, she removed her last bracelet, the leather band she had worn over her scar for years, and placed it at the base of the memorial before covering it with loose dirt. Daryl reached over, resting his hand on top of hers.

They sat silently for a few minutes, staring at the makeshift grave from their crouched positions, both wishing they could do more. Daryl wanted to say something. Something insightful or representative of the loss both he and Beth felt, but the words wouldn't come. He had never been a poet.

When Daryl broke away from his thoughts he realized the hushed noises of the group trying to break down camp had ceased. He looked back, surprised to see that his family, their family, had began gathering a few feet away. They had stopped packing, tents partially broken down, the fire embers still smoking across camp, and were waiting, arms around each other, watching Beth and Daryl.

"Think we can say a few words?" Michonne asked tentatively, Carol close at her side.

To everyone's surprise, Beth stood up, turning to face the family for the first time in almost four days. "That'd be nice…" She said softly before looking back to the cross. Daryl stood up next to her and took her hand, unwilling to let space emerge between them again.

The group was quiet for a moment as everyone arranged themselves in a semi-circle around the makeshift grave.

It was Carl who spoke up first, a napping Judith balanced on his hip. His voice was bitter; reflecting the feelings Daryl had experienced initially. "It's not fair this happened to you guys. The baby would've been lucky to grow up with you two as parents..."

Michonne took a deep breath and stepped forward next, placing a small arrangement of wildflowers under the cross. "You're gonna look for a reason this happened. But there isn't one. There is no good reason that can make you feel better… but you have to know this baby would have been loved, would have been protected. I didn't even get to meet them, but I will miss him or her every day. They were part of our family already."

"They were so loved… They _are_ so loved…" Maggie added, squeezing Michonne's hand and casting a forlorn look to her sister.

"We all feel this loss." Carol said quietly, taking time to look to both Beth and Daryl separately, "No one can experience it in the way you two have. None of us will fully understand what you're feeling. When something like this happens… no one else can know how much it hurts… But please understand, we're trying to. We love you."

Ricked cleared his throat, rubbing his beard before lowering his hand to speak. "I don't know what to say. No parents should have to lose children. Yes, it happens…" Rick paused, looking over to Michonne and Carol, who were still standing together. "But it shouldn't. And please understand, you both were already parents. You were ready to do anything for that child, and you would have. That's what parents are… That's what parents do…" As Rick's voice trailed off, Carl walked over, passing the still sleeping Judith into his father's waiting arms.

The group grew quiet for a moment before Daryl finally raised his head again, looking over at Beth for reassurance he knew she couldn't give. "There's nothing okay about this." He started shakily, pausing to take a deep breath, "I can't pretend it's all for the best and I won't pretend I believe it's all part of some greater plan. Because that's _goddamn_ bullshit. But I do know that you believe your parents are looking down on us from heaven. And I know that even though that kid's half me, they're also half you, so they're probably up there with your dad right now."

Beth buried her head into Daryl's chest without another word and for once he didn't care that a group of people was there watching him cry. They only lingered for a moment before returning to their jobs packing up, letting Beth and Daryl whisper their final goodbyes in peace.

* * *

"I just wish he had a name…" Beth whispered suddenly, interrupting the sound of crunching leaves under their feet. She and Daryl had been following broken branches on a path toward their next camp for almost an hour and had completed the walk in complete silence so far.

"He?" Daryl caught himself smiling at the revelation before feeling his heart constrict as reality hit him yet again. He cast a tentative glance to Beth, noticing that her eyes had more light in them. Sure, the new light revealed the depth of her sorrow, but at least it was there.

"Yeah. I knew he was a boy. I always knew. He woulda looked just like you. Would've given you a run for your money…" Beth let a light smile fleet across her lips. "But he also would've had a good heart. Like you. I'm sure of that."

"We could still name him?" Daryl suggested tentatively. He shot a look back at Maggie and Glenn walking behind them, pretending not to listen. Maggie took his cue, grabbing Glenn's arm and signaling for her husband to slow down and give the pair more space.

"Like what?" Beth paused, "Hershel? For my dad?" Beth's voice wavered.

Daryl knew she couldn't handle losing another Hershel, neither could he.

"I was thinking Anthony? Kinda after your mom? You said she always wanted grandkids." Daryl paused, looking over as Beth nodded affirmatively. Carefully, he took her hand, drawing her closer, "Hershel we'll save. It's not time for that one yet."

"Yet?" Beth questioned, her tone a mixture of surprise and apprehension.

"Yeah… it'll work out for us Beth. Just cause it didn't now… just cause we lost him… We don't know what'll happen next. We can't stop living. We can't stop hoping. You taught me that."


End file.
